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Sunday, November 23, 2014

SUNDAY REVIEW / “A HAUNTED HOUSE” BY VIRGINIA WOOLF

Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they
went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure--a ghostly couple.

"Here we left it," she said. And he added, "Oh, but here
tool" "It's upstairs," she murmured. "And in the
garden," he whispered. "Quietly," they said, "or we shall
wake them."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Adeline Virginia Woolf, née Stephen
(1882-1941) was an English writer and one of the foremost modernists of the
20th century. During the interwar period, Woolf was a significant figure in
London literary society and a central figure in the influential Bloomsbury
Group of intellectuals. Her most famous works include the novels Mrs Dalloway
(1925), To the Lighthouse (1927) and Orlando (1928), and the book-length essay
A Room of One's Own (1929), with its famous dictum, "A woman must have
money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." Woolf suffered
from severe bouts of mental illness throughout her life, thought to have been
the result of what is now termed bipolar disorder, and committed suicide by
drowning in 1941 at the age of 59.

But it wasn't that you woke us. Oh, no. "They're looking for it;
they're drawing the curtain," one might say, and so read on a page or two.
"Now they've found it,' one would be certain, stopping the pencil on the
margin. And then, tired of reading, one might rise and see for oneself, the
house all empty, the doors standing open, only the wood pigeons bubbling with
content and the hum of the threshing machine sounding from the farm. "What
did I come in here for? What did I want to find?" My hands were empty.
"Perhaps its upstairs then?" The apples were in the loft. And so down
again, the garden still as ever, only the book had slipped into the grass.

But they had found it in the drawing room. Not that one could ever see them.
The windowpanes reflected apples, reflected roses; all the leaves were green in
the glass. If they moved in the drawing room, the apple only turned its yellow
side. Yet, the moment after, if the door was opened, spread about the floor,
hung upon the walls, pendant from the ceiling--what? My hands were empty. The
shadow of a thrush crossed the carpet; from the deepest wells of silence the
wood pigeon drew its bubble of sound. "Safe, safe, safe" the pulse of
the house beat softly. "The treasure buried; the room . . ." the
pulse stopped short. Oh, was that the buried treasure?

A moment later the light had faded. Out in the garden then? But the trees spun
darkness for a wandering beam of sun. So fine, so rare, coolly sunk beneath the
surface the beam I sought always burned behind the glass. Death was the glass;
death was between us, coming to the woman first, hundreds of years ago, leaving
the house, sealing all the windows; the rooms were darkened. He left it, left
her, went North, went East, saw the stars turned in the Southern sky; sought
the house, found it dropped beneath the Downs. "Safe, safe, safe,"
the pulse of the house beat gladly. 'The Treasure yours."

The wind roars up
the avenue. Trees stoop and bend this way and that. Moonbeams splash and spill
wildly in the rain. But the beam of the lamp falls straight from the window.
The candle burns stiff and still. Wandering through the house, opening the
windows, whispering not to wake us, the ghostly couple seek their joy.

"Here we slept," she says. And he adds, "Kisses without
number." "Waking in the morning--" "Silver between the
trees--" "Upstairs--" 'In the garden--" "When summer
came--" 'In winter snowtime--" "The doors go shutting far in the
distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a heart.

Nearer they come, cease at the doorway. The wind falls, the rain slides silver
down the glass. Our eyes darken, we hear no steps beside us; we see no lady
spread her ghostly cloak. His hands shield the lantern. "Look," he
breathes. "Sound asleep. Love upon their lips."

Stooping, holding their silver lamp above us, long they look and deeply. Long
they pause. The wind drives straightly; the flame stoops slightly. Wild beams
of moonlight cross both floor and wall, and, meeting, stain the faces bent; the
faces pondering; the faces that search the sleepers and seek their hidden joy.

"Safe, safe, safe," the heart of the house beats proudly. "Long
years--" he sighs. "Again you found me." "Here," she
murmurs, "sleeping; in the garden reading; laughing, rolling apples in the
loft. Here we left our treasure--" Stooping, their light lifts the lids
upon my eyes. "Safe! safe! safe!" the pulse of the house beats
wildly. Waking, I cry "Oh, is this your buried treasure? The light in the
heart."

The End.

ANALYSIS: Virginia Woolf's Short Story, A Haunted
House

This short story is story
with meaning, by portraying to us

the treasure of life. When
two ghosts are searching through their old house,

looking for their
"Treasure," the treasure or meaning is revealed to us. The

joy and love shared between
two people is the treasure, the treasure of life.

By using irony and stream of
consciousness Virginia Woolf is able to reveal the meaning of the story.

Virginia Woolf uses a style
called the "Stream of Consciousness", revealing

the lives of her characters
by revealing their thoughts and associations. We

learn about the ghosts past
by seeing what they thoughts and associated with

there pasts. For example
when they were discussing death she put " "Here we slept," she
said. And he adds, "Kisses without number." "Waking in the
morning_" "Silver between the trees." "Upstairs-"
"In the garden-" "When summer came-" "In the winter
snowtime.-" Thaat quote shows us what

places and actions the
ghosts associate with there joy and love. Using stream

of consciousness gives us a
better feeling of what the characters are going

through, which in turn gives
us a better understanding of the meaning.

We also see the use of
irony, using a word or phrase to mean the exact

opposite of its literal or
normal meaning. The irony is that the story is

titled "A Haunted
House" which made us think that the house was an evil place.

The house ends up being
where every thing good happens. The ghosts did not haunt the people, instead
they make them realize the treasure they have. By seeing how much the ghosts
valued finding their treasure it makes the people take a harder look at what
their treasure is, the love and joy they share.

It is very evident when she
says " Now they found it, one would be certain,

stopping the pencil on the
margin. And then, tired of reading, one might rise and see for one self.”).

The irony draws use in by
making us think that we are about read a trivial ghost story, but instead,
gives us a deeper and more meaningful interpretation of ones life.

By Virginia Woolf's use of
streaming consciousness and irony she is rather

dramatically able to portray
her thoughts on the meaning of "A Haunted House".

That the joy and love shared
between two people is the treasure of life.